


look at the night sky

by llyfrgell (coloredlights)



Category: In the Heights
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloredlights/pseuds/llyfrgell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years later, about 80 degrees colder, and yet some things never change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	look at the night sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mazily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mazily/gifts).



There was a bottle of champagne, unopened, sitting on the kitchen counter when Sonny got home from his night class.

"Damn, son, when you gonna grow up?" Sonny muttered at his absent cousin, picking up the bottle. He contemplated it for a minute and then stuck it back in the fridge, for whenever Usnavi decided to grow some cojones.

Usnavi had been trying to propose to Vanessa for weeks, Sonny knew. And how did he know? Because Vanessa had told him. Apparently Usnavi was bumbling around even more than usual – _as if it hadn't taken enough of an intervention from certain more competent individuals just to get those two together_, Sonny thought –and even Vanessa was well aware of what was going to (someday) go down.

Sonny grabbed a Jarrito from the fridge – he was _19_ and his cousin still wouldn't keep booze in the apartment, well, except the champagne, but if Sonny drank that, Usnavi'd never be able to handle this whole marriage thing , so he'd have to settle for sugar– and sat down at the kitchen table. He'd been at the bodega all day and then CUNY for a few hours in the evening, going to his last class of the semester. It wasn't Stanford, or even Savannah College of Art and Design like SOME people, but it was college and he was still the first in his family to go.

And now the semester was basically over – never mind that paper waiting to be written – and hey, he should turn on the Christmas lights. Leaning back precariously in his chair, he flicked the switch that would illuminate the front window in a rainbow of colors.

He always liked the way the room looked in the glow of Christmas lights. It was almost like having a fireplace. Vanessa's place had an actual fireplace, and it was pretty kick-ass, not that he'd ever admit to being just a little jealous of her studio in the Village. After all, this was Abuela's apartment, and it was more familiar than the back of his hand, and it was even rent-stabilized.

A _thunk_ against the front window had Sonny leaping out of his chair. He grabbed the closest heavy object – _an econ textbook? good enough_ – and yanked the door open.

"The hell you think you're doin'? Best step off my window!" he yelled without fully showing his face. It must be a thug from outside this neighborhood 'cause all the ones here knew better than to mess with Abuela's place, so he didn't need the person seeing how young he was – or that he was threatening them with a book.

A figure stepped into the light. Sonny dropped the book.

"Man, why you gotta sneak up on me like that? Whyn't you tell me you were comin' home?" He grabbed Graffiti Pete in the sort of back-slapping way that passed for a hug between them.

"Duh, man, it's Christmas." Pete was never big with words.

"C'mon in. We got a bottle of champagne in the fridge if you wanna celebrate!"

"Champagne? You gay or somethin'?" Pete mocked him.

"What if I was?" Sonny's tone was light.

Pete looked at him. "Nah, man, it's nothin'. Forget it. Champagne, why not."

They were sitting at the table with water glasses full of champagne before Pete spoke again.  
"Why you got champagne anyway? Ain't your usual style." He swirled the glass.

Sonny rolled his eyes. "Damn straight. Usnavi's been keepin' it so he can propose to Vanessa – someday, if he ever works up the nerve. Guess he'll have to get a new bottle." He raises his glass in a mock toast.

"Hope he's learned how to open it by now." Pete cracks a grin and Sonny cracks up. It's been a long time since he's talked to someone who knew these things – about Usnavi's habitual failure with women, about how to climb the fire escape to the landing outside Abuela's window, about long days at the bodega and how it gets too damn cold for Latin people up here on this island.

"It's been crazy with you gone, dude." That's all Sonny can really say about it.

"Crazy to be gone." Eventually Sonny will ask how things are in Savannah, what it's like to be a Dominican from Washington Heights at some fancy art school in the south, but right now he just wants to pretend nothing's different.

"So Usnavi still can't get his shit together, huh?"

Sonny laughed. "That's for damn sure. The whole neighborhood – Vanessa included, even though she don't live here now – knows what he wants to do, but he thinks it's this total secret. He was gonna take the champagne with him to her place tonight, but I got home and found it on the counter. Freakin' chicken, man."

Pete snorted. "Dude can't do nothin' for himself. We gotta keep doin' all his dirty work."

"…Wait, you think we should? Again? Vanessa's gonna start thinkin' she's dating _us_."

"And that's all kinds of wrong. Nah, we'll just give him a boost, c'mon."

*******************

A subway ride, a trip to the hardware store for some spray-paint, a quick search for a handy blank wall, a pair of sneakers a little more purple than they were before, a lot of hastily-shushed laughter, and then they're done.

They lean against the door to Vanessa's building and survey the opposite wall.

"Good thing this alley's here," Sonny offers.

"We woulda found someplace," Pete responds, "but it's good."

The wall is mostly gold, with a broad message across it in red and green – "Vanessa, Usnavi's got a question for you." Pete has drawn stylized stars in the empty spaces and a string of Christmas lights as a border.

Sonny looks around and grins, elbowing Pete in the side.

"Look up, man."

They both do, and from their alley vantage point, the strings of lights on scattered windows look like exploding fireworks, splattering the black backdrop of buildings as they climb towards the sky.

Sonny's not real sure, but he thinks maybe they're both glad that some things don't change.


End file.
